Romance at Orange Star High
by El Loco Rojo
Summary: Love is in the air, can you feel it? You are the center of this story, set in Orange Star City where you and several gorgeous guys attend school. Read on to find out more about the intrigue, dates, romance and secrets that lurk in lockers and behind classroom doors. Who will you end up with? How many guys can you date? And, what made you leave home? Limited time: submit an oc! R
1. Chapter 1

"Well, this doesn't look too bad," you say to yourself as you walk up the stairs of a pleasant looking building.

It could be worse, you think to yourself.

With a heavy sigh you roll your shoulders back and let the wind kiss your hair one last time. You don't know what it's going to be like on the inside, or if you'll fare better than you did at your last school. But, that wasn't your fault.

Shaking your head you push through the main entrance, eager to be rid of the memories. The hall is quiet, surprisingly. You expected it to be filled with students eating lunch; then again, you hadn't seen anyone outside eating either. Perhaps you'd just missed the lunch bell?

Regardless, you'd better get to the office, you think. You'd hate to get into trouble in the first ten seconds you'd been at this school. Though, technically, you still weren't attending it as of yet: you had one more stupid signature to scrawl before you were a full-fledged student at the OS city high school.

The wooden door is heavy as you pull it open. It's so quiet-so obnoxious. Just a bunch of underpaid, over stressed old women in there typing away, glaring at you as you step through the door. It isn't your fault high school is mandatory for the rest of your life to exist.

"Yes?" One particularly unkind looking woman screeches at you, eyebrow quirked behind \red tortoise shell glasses.

"I'm [your name]..." you said slowly, continuing when her look doesn't change. "the new student? I have one last paper to sign...or something..."

"You're late." she says, looking down her nose at you and turning to rifle through some papers.

You stand there waiting for a few minutes, thinking she's going to get you the paper.

"Well?" She finally questions as she turns back around to you.

"...uh, well what?" you said, to which she squints unkindly. "...the, uh, last form?"

"You are tardy. Why should I let you sign simply because you walked through the door? We have specific times here, from when the day begins to when the office hours start. What makes you so special you think you can skirt our rules?"

You feel heat rise to your cheeks.

Why were you special? Oh, no reason. Except that chaotic nightmare you'd just left behind. Except for the fact that you'd taken care of everything about yourself from food to clothes to school supplies since you'd started schooling at five because you're parents were busy living their midlife crisis out through travels. Except for the fact that you'd called ahead to let the school know your flight had been delayed due to some strange atmospheric darkness and lightning that hadn't registered on any storm watch.

"I called ahead. My flight was delayed and-"

"Ohhh, your flight was delayed?" she repeated as a question, her voice rising in a patronizing tone. "Well, that changes everything."

You feel your teeth grinding together. Stupid woman.

"Ma'am?" you ask, trying to keep your voice even and polite.

"Hm?" she regards you a little differently for the moment.

"Do they teach people to control the weather at this school?" you ask, still struggling to keep your voice in check.

"Hahah what a preposterous idea! The thought! Good heavens no!" she laughs outright at you, her comrades and co workers snickering behind their monitors.

"Then, why are you being so rude about my being late, due to the WEATHER, which you just asserted cannot be controlled by human hands?"

"Young lady-"

"Look, I've paid my fees and I have a legal obligation and right to attend classes as soon as possible. Which means that you have a legal obligation to see to it that I am able to attend said classes. Which, would thereby mean you need to give me that form to sign, right now. Or, do I need to find the principal?" you interrupt her, glaring at her now, your voice low. You're losing the fight to keep calm.

After everything you've been through? No way you're dealing with this crap.

Her lips were drawn tight and her face was livid but she slapped a form down in front of you, which you signed.

She said nothing as she gave you a temporary badge to get you into the classrooms, library and labs, your book list, your locker and the combination, and your class schedule, though the look on her face was murder.

With a heavy sigh you leave her and the twittering snots behind and get lost in the maze of lockers. Leaning heavily against the cool metal you close your eyes.

"That was kind of impressive." a voice says, making you jump.

"Sorry," a guy smirks, obviously denoting that he wasn't really sorry for startling you.

"What was impressive?" you dismiss his apology.

"How you talked to Lady Yagi. Most kids pee their pants when she glares at them like that." his smirk spreads to a joyful grin.

You shrug. "Don't scare easily, I guess."

"Hahah, riiiiiight. Which is why you jumped out of your skin ten seconds ago?" he teases you.

You can't help but smile. Something about him is just so...

No.

"Look, I'm already late, obviously. I need to get to class, so..."

"Oooh, hit a nerve there huh?" his smile gets a little smaller. "Hey, let me help you find your way?"

You hesitate. Everything you know tells you to tell him to get lost. It's not that he looks particularly threatening. Its just...how could you even think of trusting-

"Uh, I guess you could point me in the right direction..."

"Great! Which locker do you have? Oh, I'm Goten, by the way."

"[your name]" you say flatly. Goten is a strange name.

"Yeah, I know. I heard you back at the office." he says pleasantly. "Oh..." his voice falls a little.

"What?" you say, your heart quickening a little.

"You're locker neighbor..." Goten says with a grimace. "He's...eh, a little...disagreeable. On everything. If he gives you trouble, let me know alright?"

Great. The year was starting off perfectly.

"So, your first class is gonna be on the basement floor. Head left from the stairs and it'll be the sixth door on the right. Room 709." he hands you your sheets and waves. "I'll catchya around then!"

"Uh, thanks!" you call, lifting your hand up halfheartedly. "Well...guess I'm off too..."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Hiya readers! Thanks for stopping by. For a short time only: I'm looking for other OC's for this story. If you're feeling adventurous, send me a pm with your character and all his spects. I'm ONLY looking for men/guys, preferably attractive OC's. If you have a really awesome female OC, who is a SIDE CHARACTER, I will take a look at her as well. **

**Can't wait to read about them :] have fun,**


	2. A Favorite Class

Beyond the crabby woman-Lady Yagi-in the office, your half day goes pretty smoothly. Room 709 is a science lab with an older gentleman teacher. He and the class hardly notice when you walk in; he is doing some experiment and has their full raptured attention.

You'd missed lunch, and your stomach makes it hard to focus on what the teacher is saying. The room is set up like a lecture hall but from how the seats are taken you figure that this teacher isn't usually one of the more popular ones at school. The students are all grouped towards the back and the side of the room with the door to the hallway.

Today, however, the students all sit on the edge of their seats. You keep yourself busy making lists and organizing things in your journal. You've seen this experiment before so you set your eyes slyly on the room.

This place is the same as your old school, at least at a glance. There are the cute faces, the snotty faces, handsome young men and obnoxious looking kids; you can see queen bees and jocks; the nerds and the studious. Normal people, normal students. It seems safe.

So you scrutinize the faces you see, trying to draw out anything you can in your imagination to give you an excuse not to make the same mistake you'd made the last time. You pick out every snaggle-tooth, every un-plucked eyebrow, every lazy eye, every mole or freckle to sate you on your witch hunt. This scrutiny lends your eye to faces that, however hard you might try, you can't seem to find anything wrong with.

His eyes are intense but gentle, and his face...it was framed by silky light threads of hair-you want to stop looking at him but you can't. You force yourself to look at other faces, find horrible things about those people, and then come back to him and try to find horrible things about him too. But it doesn't work. You see his face with each glance and are struck with the simple fact that this is not your old school.

* * *

Towards the end of the hour the teacher calls all the students down so that they can try out the experiment first hand. You keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd at your seat. It's sort of fun to watch everyone go by.

You see who is excited, who's hiding their excitement, who runs the show and who truly enjoys the class. You take notes on people, try to catch names and jot them down in your journal. It isn't to be creepy-once you get to know people here these notes with get recycled. But you're not good with names, and you don't want to give the impression of being distant and cold. Because, you know that if you are people will start to press you about things. And if they press about things you'll be forced to lie to protect your secrets.

It's a big mess that's just easier to waylay by being reasonably open and as friendly as possible. I.e. making friends.

But making friends can wait. While everyone's all distracted with the classroom experiment you sneak out a few minutes before the bell rings for dismissal. You've got another classroom to find and a teacher to introduce yourself to. It'll be like this the rest of the day so you take a deep breath and try to still yourself. You can't let your nerves eat you away.

Inside you wonder if you'll have that guy-Goten-in any of your afternoon classes. You're kind of hoping so, he had a nice face. And a nice smile too, that would be nice to see around sometimes. You're thinking about him and where he fits into this hierarchy of high school.

Your next class is English and this room has a far more suitable appeal to you than the last one. For starts, it is much smaller than the last room. For another it has several windows that look out onto the courtyard. You're one of the first students to arrive-there was no need to run up to your locker-and choose one of the seats towards the middle of the row right next to the windows. You do like English, but at the same time once in awhile you enjoy losing yourself in space.

You're busy jotting observations down in your journal when you notice someone walking up to you. Your eyes flicker up; he's not paying attention as he walks over.

"Oh," he says when he finally realizes that there's someone sitting in front of him.

You look up with raised brows at him. He stares back at you for a second, and then the shock relaxes from his face.

"...oh." you finally catch on. "This...is your seat? Do you want me to move?" you start grabbing your things.

"No, no," he smiles and slides easily into the seat right next to you. "Doesn't have my name on it anyway."

You give him a small smile in return and go back to writing things down. But you still feel him smiling at you; looking up again you catch his blue eyes.

"Sure you don't want me to move?"

"Yeah," he grins. "I'm sure. Besides, the view from here is better,"

"Ah," you nod. "Guess I'll have to try it next time," you reply, knowing it sounds stupid.

He gives you a strange look, his smile slightly smaller. "Uh, right,"

Chewing on your lip in the remaining time before class you finally muster up your courage.

"Sorry, I'm new,"

At the same time he said "My name's Trunks,"

"Hi," you both say at the same time. He starts chuckling but your own enjoyment is cut short when you see a few glares shot your way.

"I figured. I know most of the faces here," he says pleasantly.

You note in your mind that he's a jock; his build, his easy manner, and his words all allude to his alpha status in the school. He's probably someone important here, someone with a lot of leverage with the other students and a lot of respect. And a lot of friends means, you figure, he has a girlfriend. He's also someone you should probably get to know to have on your side here. You smile again and go back to your observing.

"Welcome class! Good afternoon!" a pleasant woman says cheerfully with a gentle voice and bright eyes. "Please, everyone, turn to page one-oh-six and, oh, why don't we have Asiah start reading last night's chapters? Popcorn it off whenever you're ready,"

Asiah reads a page and a half and then popcorns it off to a girl (one who shot you a glare) named Britt who hardly reads a paragraph before passing it off in a flirty high pitched voice to the guy, Trunks. Trunks read a decent share in a low, calm voice that soothed your first day nerves. Trunks passed it off after thinking a moment to who you assume is a good friend (the guy groaned/growled when Trunks called his name). It passes from him to another girl with a tiny voice who you can hardly hear which leaves you staring disinterestedly at the pages in your loaned copy; a male voice drones dully on for a few sentences before trying to pass it off to someone else; the teacher cut him off and made him read two full pages, nearly putting you to sleep.

Then comes a jokester who wakes you up. He ad-libbs the written text, does uproariously hilarious voices and expressions, and has the whole class cracking up. You even find yourself laughing and trying to hide your snickers from the teacher like several others. She looks like she's miffed, but you can see her smirks under the facade.

When he finally starts cracking up himself, unable to continue through his mirth he says "Popcorrrrrrnnnnn..." and looks ominously around the room. "Popcorn, the new girl,"

There are still a few chuckles and some snickering going around, but now the room falls uncomfortably quiet. They're all waiting for you to make some sort of response. Suddenly you realize that this moment might dictate the rest of your high school existence.

You sit there in the quiet.

"...Ms...[your last name]...?" the teacher says, looking up from her desk, her smile relaxing to that of a proper teacher's. "It's your turn to read,"

You've decided. You look up with mock surprise on your face. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize he meant me."

There are a few snickers, you're guessing from some of the girls who glared at you.

"Its just that, I have a name and, it isn't 'new girl'" you say playfully, looking at the jokester who called on you, smiling.

"Haha. Alright, popcorn toooooo..." the boy lets his voice hang in the air, waiting for you to respond. You look at him with arched brows and a smirk

"According to you its "new girl"". He grins back at you and gives a mock bow from his seat as if to say 'well played'.

"Oh...oh of course! I didn't even introduce you to the class! Ms. [your name], would you care to introduce yourself?"

You're already a little red in the face from the whole stunt, but Trunks' whisper "cute name" makes you blush even deeper. Again you quickly weigh the options in your head and bite the bullet. Standing at the teacher's gentle prodding you give a little wave to the class.

"Uh, hi," you say, slipping your hands into your pockets. "I'm [your name]. My, uh, family and I just moved here...from Blue-north City. I'm excited to be here, I mean, new is good, right? Uh...heh, unless you're expecting a list of likes and dislikes...I guess that's it," There are some chuckles, and the joker gives you a few playful claps and then you see the teacher's smile signaling you can sit down.

"Alright, it's nice to meet you [your name]. Now, lets get back to our studies. If you wouldn't mind?" The teacher prompts you to read.

With a secret grimace to yourself you settle in and read, trying to pretend you were back home to make it more comfortable on yourself. In Blue-north City you'd been in school with half of your class since pre-k. They'd heard you reading almost since you could read. It was comforting there because people knew you and accepted you or they knew you and excluded you, but there weren't secrets or mysteries in you back home for them to uncover. That was the exact opposite here at Orange Star; you tried not to think about that though.

"Uh, popcorn..." you look around the room and realize you don't know anybody's name who hasn't already been called on. "Wildcard."

"Uhm, what's-" the teacher begins to say

"Wildcard is where the first person to speak reads," Trunks says with a smirk in your direction.

"Should we take that as a volunteer?" You jest a little, quietly.

"Hey new gi- I mean, [your name], next time call on me. My name's Arieis." Someone turns around and leans over your desk, a smooth smile accompanied by striking grey eyes voicing the request.

"Down boy," Trunks says in a tone that leaves you unsure of a joke or jeer shot in Arieis' direction.

"Mr. Briefs? You may continue, then," he's instructed before his rich, resonating voice that you find yourself paying more attention to than the story.

He popcorned it off to a girl, one whose name you hadn't known before. You try to convince yourself that half of it is because he wanted to help you out with your new peers' names, despite the idiocy of that thought.

The three chapters are read over with twenty minutes to spare in the class. Your new English teacher proceeds to talk over the chapters and discuss character development and plot segments. You find yourself really relating to the main character, a young man who seems normal but bordering on some drastic life affirming or altering adventure. The writing has you totally entwined in the story and you can't wait to get home to read it from the beginning. You've never heard of this author before, but you're finally excited to be reading. Since junior high all the books were picked out and pre-planned and unbearably boring. This English class has promise.

* * *

"Who would like to hazard a guess on where this story is heading?" The teacher asks, surprising you.

Another student voices your own concern about the ending or surprises of the book being ruined. You're indirectly reassured that even if a prediction is spot on no one will affirm whether or not it actually happens in the book. Despite you wanting another chance to sneak out of class early, you stay in your seat listening to your peers' views on what's going to happen. You find that you're actually really excited to see who's proved right and who makes a close second when it comes to this class. You get so caught up in the teacher and the class discussions that you jump when the end bell finally rings.

Trunks is laughing a little-at your presumably-as the class cleans up their things and begins to take off.

"So, where do you think the story will progress?" he questions you kindly, smiling as he slides his book and notebook into a pack.

You shrug one shoulder slowly, thinking. "I think...there's going to be a tragic ending."

He gives you the same strange look as before but stops what he's doing and looks at you directly; well, that was one way to get his attention. "Why do you say that?"

You draw in your lips, scared of going down this road. How perceptive is he anyway? Would he even really pick up if you went a little into detail about what kind of a person the main character is hanging around with. Deep down you think not; your over active, hopeless-romantic brain tries to implant movie scenarios into your real life, but when you really think about it, you know that if you tell Trunks that you think the ending will be tragic because the protagonist is a user with obsessive tendencies who seems to be a pathological liar you don't think he'll pick up on just why you are able to read so deeply into a fictional character's personality flaws.

"I dunno...the best friend just sort of creeps me out. There's something...off about his character, you know? And the main guy...he's oblivious to that...disconnect. I just think its going to end badly for them." you finally dish out, starting to walk to the door.

"Hey new girl!" Someone calls over Trunks' shoulder.

You playfully roll your eyes at the jokester. "I think we've been over this one before,"

"Hahaha. Alright, alright, [your name]. But you gotta admit, it grabbed your attention, right? I'm Armin. Where's your next class?"

Trunks shoots him a look and moves slightly in your direction. "Don't worry about it, we're going down to Sculpture, you can harass her some other time,"

The alpha says it pleasantly enough, but you sense underlying tension between the two and try to come up with anything plausible to dispel the tension.

"Haha, Armin? And here I thought you went by Puck." you smile because he's stopped glaring at Trunks' back and is calm again, and smiling too.

"Yeah? Haha and why would that be, who's 'Puck'?"

"Hm. No, actually, I think it suits you. Catchya around, Puck,"

He leaves through the second door laughing and giving you a little wave before he goes. Trunks smiles at you and motions the 'ladies first' signal (an open palm towards the door) and the two of you begin walking together down the hall.

"You don't like him, do you?"

"And you don't like tension." he states back to you, not answering your question.

You draw your lips together and look at the ground, feeling like you've been chastised though you know you haven't been. Your chest is tight and your heart is still beating fast; ever since- it doesn't matter. You swallow and force yourself not to think about why that situation made your pulse race.

"Hey, [your name], I'm sorry," Trunks says, lightly putting a hand on your shoulder. "I didn't mean to be rude back there. Armin is...nice, but he goes through girls like a girl goes through clothes,"

You smile and chuckle despite yourself. "Isn't that a bit sexist to say?"

He grins fully at you and chuckles himself. "It's totally sexist to say. But, in my defense, I've never known a girl to leave in the first outfit she's tried on."

"...hey," you say, suddenly realizing something that makes your blood run cold. "h-how did you know that my next class was-"

"Sculpture? Because I'm a lab for that class, as lame as it sounds. Mr. Yen had me review your portfolio before he accepted you in the class,"

You're not sure if that makes you feel better. "Oh. How do you get to be a lab for an art elective?"

He smiles at you. "I uh, have a strong family...knack...for building and designing things, I guess you could say."

"Ah, a savant of the art world?" you question, trying to keep the conversation fully on him.

He shrugs in a non-committal way. "Not really. Just very good with my hands,"

You fight a blush at the innuendo, not sure he'd intended to make one and darn set on not letting him know you picked up on it if he had. "So, you and Armin..."

"Get along fine. On all subjects except how you treat a girl." he answers abrasively.

"Thanks for walking with me," you say with a little head nod, not looking him in the eye as you skirt inside the door and find a seat towards the back, trying your best not to look towards him.

You know you didn't give him any time to respond. You didn't want to. Alphas scared you a little, after everything that had happened. An alpha guy put you in a scary place that you weren't sure you were out of just yet. Not to mention it seemed he'd gotten irritated with you for making conversation, which made you think controlling. Which was never a good trait to see in a person, but especially in a person with so much power.

You were so focused on him and the conversation you'd had and whether or not you were reading too much into it that you didn't hear Mr. Yen calling your name. On what you thought was the second or third time he'd called it you looked around to see everyone staring at you, some smirking, some fed up that you hadn't answered.

"Sorry, uh, here, sir..."

"Are you sure? Looks like someone left the lights on before walking out?" he says kindly.

You can tell Mr. Yen will be one of your favorite teachers. He's got kind, squinty blue Santa Claus eyes behind little square glasses that sit in the middle of his nose and a bushy Santa Claus beard that's still a little grey in some places. He's easily six foot something, with strong burly arms and a barrel chest that's turning into just a little of a pot belly. He's wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and denim pants with suspenders.

All in all he reminds you of Santa dressing up as a lumberjack.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. "You know, [your name], sometimes we leave the lights on to deter thieves from coming in and stealing all the good stuff, eh?"

You smile back and he grabs a stool and sits down. "Alright Ms. [your last name], this is what we'll be doing for the next week or so. I'll give you a little time to get caught up. Here are your materials, you just have to sign this. If any materials go missing by the end of term, you pay the fee so that we can replace them for the next term's students.

"My room is open to all students before school, during lunch, and after school. I will let students stay in this room using the equipment and tools right up until the place is locked down at seven thirty and I allow the janitors to open this room when they get here at six. However, if we start having problems, things go missing or someone gets hurt, if someone is caught doing anything wrong in this room, those privileges go away, for everyone. This rule is for all my students.

"No food in here, at any time unless it is sealed and kept away from the tools. Too much dust and debris that're dangerous to eat around. Does all this make sense?"

You nod and affirm with a 'yes sir' that it does and he goes on to let you sign the paper and starts to give you directions on the current project.

After he leaves you to your own devices you stare blankly at the sheet you're supposed to be sketching your idea for your assignment on. Nothing's coming to you. In the past six months so much has happened to you and around you, you've been through so much and seen so much and felt so much that your mind doesn't seem to know what to do with a blank sheet of paper, a graphite pencil, and a set of parameters.

You've been staring into space you don't know how long and suddenly look up. Trunks is looking at you. You stare at him and he smiles, then goes back to whatever it is he's working on at his lab's desk. Normally you think you would have been freaked. Actually, normally you would have tried flirting; a new normal had settled over you in the past six months and this new normal would have left you creeped out.

Now, however, you just feel drained. You know that you should be a little worried, but, at this moment you don't feel anything at all. And, if you're honest with yourself, that's a rather peacefully and pleasant place to be.

* * *

_**A/N:**_

_**Hey guys. Alright, so I'm going to try something new and try to make each chapter play out like an individual episode with a start, middle and finish to it. We'll see how it works!**_

_**Also! Please feel free to submit any OC MALE CHARACTER that you have and wouldn't mind sharing. I've got a few in here already, but if you want this to be interesting lets have some more, yes? **_

**_Thanks for all your support and reviews! _**

**_Enjoy. _**


End file.
